Chapter Three

 Evelyn’s P.O.V.

        Today hasn’t been very great for me. I woke up early this morning with a major migraine, and I feel as if an eighteen-wheeler ran over me, backed up, and did it again. Two weeks have passed since my last doctor’s visit, and I know for certain that my life is coming to an end. My body aches terribly all the time, no matter how many pills I take to subdue the pain. I lost my usual massive appetite and have become much skinnier. When I look in the mirror, I am never happy with what I see. I finally look the way I have felt for these past few years. Sick.

    I feel terrible for my parents. They look as if they have aged several years in just the past few days. Laughter doesn’t exist in this house anymore; whereas, it used to resound through the house and fill up the hearts of anyone who heard it with pure happiness and elation. Now the house is deadly silent at all times. My family members speak to each other in low voices, almost as if they are whispering to each other. We don’t have movie nights anymore or play loud music and dance around like the crazy people we are. Happiness just doesn’t live here anymore; it packed up and left after it heard the dreaded word cancer. I mean, with the way that they all tiptoe around and whisper quietly, it’s almost as if I have already died. I think that my parents finally realize that my death is now becoming a reality. The horrible idea of their only daughter dying is finally sinking into their minds after all this time. They are all in pain. And it’s my fault.

        I sit up in my bed slowly, gasping slightly at the pain that shoots through my body. I look at the lime green alarm clock that sits on the nightstand beside my bed and see the numbers shining brightly through the darkness that covers my room. 12:47 a.m. I throw my legs over the side of my bed, pushing back my covers that attempt to tangle themselves around me, and I place my feet on the soft carpet of the floor before standing up. A shriek of pain leaves my lips and cuts through the still, quiet air of the night when excruciating pain shoots from my toes to my head upon standing. I gasp for air as I try to calm myself down. I had not been expecting such torturous pain.

        I stand still for a moment, listening for any sounds of movement outside of my door. I sigh in relief when I realize that my parents must not have heard my cry. I would not want to worry them any more. I then begin my trek to the bathroom, one painful step at a time. I press my hands to the wall of the hallway or any object I pass as I walk, trying to take away some of the pain that I feel. I accidentally bump into a table that we have set up in the hallway and almost knock over the lamp that sits on it, and I have to bite my tongue so I do not scream in pain. My legs, feet, and ankles feel as if knives are stabbing into them as I walk and bumping into the table made the pain even worse.

        Once the pain somewhat subsides, I continue to the bathroom, but when I am in front of my parent’s room, I stop abruptly. My eyes widen in worry when I hear crying. Their door stands slightly ajar, enough for me to peer through. I look into the room, waiting a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness of their room. My little brother sits in between my parents on their bed, and my mom’s arms are wrapped tightly around him as my dad rubs his back soothingly.

        “I don’t want Eve to die, Mama!” my little brother yells out croakily in between sobs, his voice muffled due to the fact that he has his face buried in the crook of mama’s neck. His arms cling to her as if she will somehow be able to take away his grief.

        My mother shushes him in a soothing way and strokes his light brown hair softly. “I know, James. We don’t want that either, but I promise that everything is going to be okay. You’ll see,” she whispers to him, but I can distinctly hear the angst in her tone of voice.

        “No! You’re wrong! I’ll never have her here to play videogames with me or watch “Dr. Who”. I won’t have her here to tease me or yell at me when I get on her nerves. She always comforts me when the other people at school bully me. What will I do when she is gone? Everything is all wrong! Eve is too nice of a person to have to die this way!” he gasps for air as he tries to breathe. My mom and dad continue to try and calm him down.

        I back away from the door in horror, tears streaming down my face. Why has James never told me that he feels this way? Why have I never seen that he is struggling, too? All this time I’ve looked at him as a mere child, thinking that he does not understand the true meaning of death. But he is nine years old. He does understand the pain and destruction that comes with losing a loved one. It’s as if I blinked, and he grew up right before my eyes. He is no longer the tiny little four year old in his racecar pajamas who would crawl into my bed at night when he was scared of the dark. He’s no longer the six year old who lost yet another baby tooth and smiled at me with a gap in his teeth and immense pride in his eyes. He’s not the seven year old boy who fell off of his skateboard and ran to me with tears flowing heavily down his face like the blood on his knee, looking for comfort and security to heal his pain. No, he is so much more now. He’s the nine year old who goes to school every day and faces the bullies that are stronger than he is with the bravery that a knight would possess when battling a dragon. He’s the boy whose sister is dying, yet he still puts on a brave face and remains strong in front of everyone else.

        I decide to not intervene and continue to hobble towards the bathroom. As I’m walking, I still hear my brother sobbing, and I distantly hear him yell, “Nothing will ever be the same!” Tears pour down my face, and the pain in my heart is much worse than any pain that will ever plague my body before I die.

        Once I reach the bathroom, I silently shut the door and lock it before sliding down to the cold marble floor. I sit with my back pressed against the door, and I place my head in my hands. Why can’t death be easy? Why do we have to care so much about others and hurt so much when they are gone? It’s unfair! I’ve been selfish. I have been wishing for death for so long that I’ve become selfish. I’ve overlooked the feelings of my own friends and family members and my own sweet, innocent little brother. I have never really understood the impact I’ve had on the lives of my family and friends. I have been wallowing in self pity for too long.

        I drag my fist across my freckled cheeks, wiping away the tears that continue to fall. My breath is very jagged, and it takes me a moment to realize that it’s not from crying. My eyebrows furrow together is confusion, worry starting to overcome me. I surely can’t be dying now, right? Not without telling my family goodbye.

        I slowly stand up, using the door as a support, planning to get to my parent’s room as quickly as I can. Once I’m on my feet, though, a surge of pain, stronger than ever before, shoots throughout my body, seeming to rip muscle, grind bone, and further deteriorate my body. This time I cannot keep in the scream of agony.

        I slide back down to the floor in pain as tears once again start to flow down my face. My chest burns as sobs escape my lips. My vision is suddenly covered with black spots and I feel very light-headed. I distantly hear the sound of my parents worried voices and my brother’s sobbing, and my parents’ fierce knocking on the bathroom door vibrates against my back. I am too weak to answer, or even concentrate properly. I lean my head back against the door and gaze dazedly at the golden beams of light illuminating from the light bulbs in the bathroom. I feel a weird sleepy sensation overtaking me as if my body is shutting down slowly, bit by bit. In this moment, I know in my heart that I am dying.

        Most people think that dying is cold, or evil. They think that death is something that rips apart families and changes lives forever, and in a way, they are right. But actually experiencing death is completely different. You get this feeling inside of you, and you just know. You know it is your time to leave, and honestly, it’s not a sad event. In fact, I feel happy, the type of happiness I’m sure that I would’ve felt on my wedding day or the day of my child’s birth, had I lived to have any of those blessings and miracles. It’s a bubbling feeling in my heart. A sensation that travels from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and my pain can no longer be felt because this overwhelming feeling is overtaking it.

        Death is not cold or ugly or evil. Death is… warm.

                            …

        My vision goes black.


 

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        I wake up to the sound of trickling water. I hear several birds chirping harmoniously in the trees above me. The leaves of the trees rustle in the light breeze that blows through them. My eyes flutter open, and a soft sigh comes from my lips. Sunlight filters softly through the trees above me and caresses my face. I move my arms up above my head and feel the soft grass brushing my skin. A light laugh escapes from my mouth as I turn my head from side to side, taking in the beauty of the forest around me. For some reason, everything around me is so clear. I’ve never been able to see this clearly before, even when wearing my contacts or my glasses. It’s not natural, but it’s phenomenal.

        I sit up slowly, expecting to feel sharp pain, but I don’t feel any at all. I gasp in pleasant surprise. I stand and twirl around, happiness bubbling inside of me at the fact that I am no longer sick. The cancer is gone. The cancer is gone. I open my mouth in disbelief and let out a cry of joy as happy tears form in my eyes. I begin to run through the trees like I haven’t been able to do in years, laughing as I jump over fallen trees and logs and small puddles of water. No pain plagues my body as I do so.

        A squirrel runs swiftly through a tree several yards away, and I am surprised that I can not only see it clearly, as if it is right in front of me, but I can also hear the sounds of its tiny feet thumping against the bark as it runs. My eyes are wide in wonder as I slow down to a leisurely walk and analyze the scenery around me. Where am I?Never in my life did I think I would come to a random forest when I died, but I guess I can’t complain. Anything is better than being stuck with cancer.

        I come to a bubbling stream. I don’t know why, but something draws me to it. It’s as if there is a magical force on the stream, seeming to pull me to it. I walk hesitantly towards it and stop when I am by the side of it. The sunlight seems to pour onto the water and mix within it, causing the waters to glow ethereally. I look into the waters at my reflection, expecting to see the short red hair, dull eyes, and sunken features that I’ve come to accept as my appearance, but when I look into the water, I gasp in horror and quickly step away from the stream in fright. My shaking hands come up to feel my ears, and I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. My ears are pointed.Pointed! What is going on?

    Once my heart rate is somewhat stable again and I do not think I have a chance of having a heart attack, I walk tentatively back to the water’s edge. A completely different person stares back at me when I look into the reflective pond. My hair is long, falling down to my waist in voluminous, red curls. Each hair of my head seems to catch the light of the Sun and absorb it into the fibers that make it up. My green eyes shine brighter than they ever have in all of my life, the once dull green color now vibrant and shining. My eyes almost remind me of an animal’s eyes because the gorgeous color is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The freckles on my face seem to be scattered in a perfect pattern instead of randomly like they used to be. My lips are still small, like they’ve always been, but they look softer now, a bit more desirable. My skin is free of any imperfections, and I find myself leaning closer to the stream to get a better look at my reflection. There has to be a pimple somewhere or a scar or something, but there is nothing. My pale skin is like porcelain.

        I am… beautiful. For the first time in my life my appearance is flawless. But I still feel the same inside. Tears form in my eyes as I stare at my reflection. This can’t be the afterlife. This definitely isn’t Heaven; I wouldn’t be alone, and I obviously wouldn’t be an elf. One tear flows down my cheek and drips into the water, distorting my reflection. This isn’t what I wanted! I don’t know where I am. I do not have shelter or food, and there is no sign of civilization. What have I ever done to deserve this? I mean, I died of cancer for goodness’ sakes, and now I am an elf stuck in an unknown land all alone! Did I get this punishment because of something I did in my life on Earth? I do remember lying about doing my homework and stealing candy from the kitchen before dinner, but I never did anything really bad. Nothing deserving of cancer or a sucky afterlife.

    I breathe out a frustrated sigh and wipe away my tears. My eyes dart around, trying to find anything that may be even the slightest bit familiar. Maybe I have been reincarnated like what happens to those kids on that show “Ghost Inside My Child”. I roll my eyes at the random thought and stand up. I guess I should begin looking for means of shelter and food. I decide to follow the path of the stream because that’s what people on TV shows always did when they were stranded in an unknown place. Water is essential to life afterall.

        I trudge through the trees for about fifteen minutes. The forest seems to change the further I venture into the trees. The air feels thicker and heavier. The trees are almost… magical, and I feel incredibly uneasy. I begin to get extremely antsy, jumping at any small sound. Honestly, I feel like I am being watched.

    I hear a twig snap from behind me. I whip around in panic, but nothing is there. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, and my heart starts thumping rapidly. My chest rises and falls as my breath comes out in puffs. The feeling of being watched grows stronger, and fear builds up in my chest. I turn around, getting ready to run away from whatever is following me, but I freeze in my place. An arrow point is resting right in front of my nose. For one crazy, entirely insane moment, I’m almost positive that I’m going to pee.

    A scream dies in my throat as I stare dumbly at the man in front of me. He has golden, honey-brown eyes that seem to pierce into me with distrust and anger swimming in their depths. His blonde hair reaches past his shoulders and is pulled back in braids behind his ears. His pointed ears. I stifle a gasp as I look around at all of the elves. They seem to have appeared from nowhere, and now they are surrounding me, their bows loaded with sharp-tipped arrows that are aimed straight at me.

        I look back at the elf in front of me and size him up. He wears clothing that reminds me of what the elves in Lord of the Rings wear. I’m sure that he won’t hesitate to kill me, should I say or do anything stupid, but something in his eyes tells me that he doesn’t intend on shooting me with an arrow if he doesn’t have a solid reason to. Looking past the hard, cold barrier of his brown eyes, I see an emotion that can only be identified as curiosity. Or possibly interest.

    “Mankoi naa lle sinome??” The elvish flows from his mouth beautifully, and I am transfixed by it. Elvish has always sounded beautiful to me when it came from the lips of Orlando Bloom, but I almost drop dead hearing it from an actual elf. It’s so… seductive? Yes. That’s the word. It’s extremely seductive. Ya know, despite the fact that his arrow is pointed straight at my heart.

        “Excuse me? I don’t understand…” I say quietly, and I am surprised to hear that my Alabama accent is long gone. My accent is very proper, just like I always imagined an elf would sound like.

        The elf, who seems to be in charge of the others, looks at me as if I have three heads and a furry tail. He looks me up and down in confusion and wonder. “You do not speak the language of your own kin?” he asks in his silky smooth voice and raises one of his eyebrows.

        My cheeks flush pink in embarrassment under his piercing stare, and I manage to stutter, “I-I, um, well no. No, I do not.”

        He lowers his bow but keeps it loaded as he regards me with interest. “Interesting,” he mutters as he continues to study me.

       I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “Could you please tell me where I am?” I ask pleadingly, becoming more and more agitated with my lack of knowledge and his unnerving stare.

    His raised eyebrow arches even higher at my question that he apparently finds very strange. “You are in Lothlorien, realm of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel,” he says with a tone that tells me I should definitely already know this.

    My jaw drops in disbelief. This has to be some sort of twisted joke. There is no way that I am in Middle Earth right now. It’s impossible! I have always dreamed of this, of being able to live in Middle Earth, but now that I’m here, I’m scared. I have no friends nor family. I don’t even have a place to stay. And now, here I am making a complete fool of myself in front of the first elves that I meet. Granted, I did always picture my life in Middle Earth would be that of a Mary Sue.

    “You are trespassing, actually,” he continues arrogantly, “And trespassers are to be put to death. The rules of this land do not change for you, unless you can give me a valid excuse as to why you are here.”

    I feel my eyes widen and my heart starts to beat rapidly in fear. They will kill me if I do not give a good reason, but what am I supposed to say? Oh,well you see, I’m from a completely different world, I died, and I woke up here in your forest, so, um, please don’t kill me. Great. I can’t tell them the truth, obviously, but I can’t lie. I’ve never been able to make up a story on the spot. I have no idea what to do.

    I sigh quietly, ready to accept death yet again, but a voice coming from behind the mysterious elf keeps me from opening my mouth and ruining my chances of living.

    “This one does not need an excuse, Haldir,” an angelic voice says to the elf. Haldir. Hmm, he’s just like the Lord of the RIngs fandom always imagined he would be. Arrogant, cold, yet there seems to be an underlying kindness to him that he doesn’t seem to let many people see.

    From behind Haldir, a beautiful elven lady appears from the trees and walks toward me, but she is so graceful that she seems to float over the forest ground. She glows radiantly in her stunning white dress, and her kind, yet intimidating eyes look into mine. I feel naked, exposed under her all-knowing stare, as if all of my secrets and thoughts are laid out openly for her to sift through. I immediately recognize her as Lady Galadriel.

    “Welcome, my child,” she says to me, her strong and wise voice seeming to float through the breeze and command time to freeze for a moment. She stops in front of me and takes my hands into her own, “I have been expecting you.”

    I watch from the corners of my eyes as the other elves put away their weapons, bow to Galadriel, and disappear back into the trees. The only one who stays is Haldir, and he watches Galadriel and I in bewilderment. “E-expecting me?” I stutter out in confusion. How on earth was she expecting me when I wasn’t even in Middle Earth until just recently.

    She only smiles knowingly and says, “Come, sadril. You must be tired.” She begins walking, her hand resting on my upper back in a comforting manner. “You are welcome to stay here in Lothlorien. Once you have rested and begun to mold to our way of life here, I will answer any of the questions you may have. I have much to discuss with you, but we have plenty of time for answers later.”

    I only smile weakly and nod as I walk beside her. All of the happiness and elation that I felt upon waking here in Middle Earth have almost completely vanished now. Anxiousness takes over my body and mind, and I sigh. How is this my life now? I wanted peace! I’m so confused. I am supposed to be in the afterlife now, yet for some crazy reason, I am here. In Middle Earth!

    This must be some sort of weird dream, right?

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Elvish translations:  Mankoi naa lle sinome?        Why are you here?

                                                                        sadril                Loyal one

A/N: Hey y’all! Thank you for reading! I know things may seem to be going a bit fast or “escalating quickly”, but I wanted to get to the main plot quickly. I hope this doesn’t disappoint!

Please R&R! Encouraging, positive comments help my creative juices to keep flowing.

See y’all next chapter xD

-Josie-

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